


Look

by LadyVader



Series: Inadvisable and Irresistable [1]
Category: Inception (2010) RPF
Genre: Exhibitionism, M/M, RPF, Voyeurism, pre slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-01
Updated: 2010-10-01
Packaged: 2017-11-09 13:45:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/456110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyVader/pseuds/LadyVader
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom gets Joe thinking about the joys of working it for the Camera Phone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look

~

It starts with this:

Joe snorts his water the wrong way, choking it out of his windpipe and nose simultaneously.

“What the HELL?” He splutters, still choking, laughing and staring all at once as Tom grins and reaches over to firmly clasp Joe’s wrist, bearing it downward ‘til he sees his own face pouting back at him (upside down) from the screen of his own (if traitorous) phone.

“OI!” He laughs, snatching it back from the still chuckling yank. “You were meant to be looking at the photos from earlier, you cheeky fuck – not scrolling through the good stuff!”

“Oh, that’s the good stuff?” Joe grins wider, still wiping stray water from his face. “What, you just thought ‘who needs a new headshot when I can just drop my pants, grab a handful and make pretty?’”

Tom amiably whacks him with his own still-plastic-wrapped sandwich from the lunch table, looking a little too like Eames as he squints and smiles lazily at Joe’s over-exaggerated wince. “What – you’ve never taken the odd silly picture of yourself for kicks?”

Joe chuckles again, mostly at the Brit’s clipped accent enunciating ‘silly’. “Well yeah – but nothing like THAT!”

“Like what?”

“Y’know – all porn face and mostly naked!”

Tom throws back his head and _roars_ with laughter. (Joe does NOT stare unblinking at the column of Tom’s throat because that would be _silly_.)

“Oh mate, you’ve not... really?” Tom sits forward, elbows on the table, head low in a manner too conspiratorial to be any good for Joe’s sudden jangling hormonal rush. “ _That_ , mate, was NOT naked... nor was it porn, that was just bloody good fun, y’know?” His grin widens and Joe finds himself leaning closer, wondering idly how the Englishman seems to perpetually have on lip gloss, his fingers twitching as Tom abruptly dangles the phone between them. “Course, if you’d kept going that’s EXACTLY what you’d have found.”

Joe blinks, eyes following the phone now like a pendulum. “Porn & Nudity?”

Tom leans back, pocketing the phone in what seems like an overly drawn out movement to Joe. “Well not porn per se – but haven’t you ever just felt a bit...?” Tom rolls his shoulders, shifting in his seat and smiling devilishly and Joe feels obliged to wet his lips.

“A bit what?”

Devil-ish turns full-blown Satanic. “Naughty.” Tom’s eyebrows waggle at Joe’s burst of laughter and suddenly the situation feels a lot closer to normality than it had a heartbeat before.

“Naughty?” Joe echoes with a smirk and Tom laughs again and the sound is bizarrely comforting.

“Yeah, y’know – you’ve maybe had a few or you’ve just been working out and everything feels right and good and you ARE good, y’know... So good the moment deserves capturing for posterity.”

Joe quirks a brow. “You having your hands down your pants and pouting was worth saving?”

Tom lets his grin spread into actual lasciviousness. “Felt like it at the time.” He stands, stretching and waving at an approaching Chris before snatching up his sandwich and dropping a few last words in Joe’s ear before he strolled away. “Not to mention – you never know who you might want to save the moment _for_...”

~

Joe’s drunk. He shouldn’t be. He has an early start – the whole day looks to be wirework which SO does not need a queasy stomach to make it harder – but somehow most of ‘Team: Inception’ had wound up at a nearby bar after final cut and Ellen had discovered they did karaoke and tequila and triple threat nachos and –

Joe’s stomach quivers uneasily and he decides then that a large water, a quick shower and a truckload of antacid might be the best plan ever.

He’s still buzzed when he exits the shower, but the nausea’s faded and his rehydration efforts have left him feeling sharper so now he’s warm, clean and at peace with the world.

He’s also naked.

He laughs softly at himself, utterly unable to remember where he’s dropped his towel between shower, kitchen, living room and bedroom, but now standing before the mirrored wardrobe facing his somewhat epic bed, he finds himself _captivating_.

He’d been described a great many ways over the years as he grew and... and _transformed_ himself, he feels. Undersized, shrimp to skinny, lanky, long to lean, understated, _elegant_ even, to this.

He turns, slow rotating from left to right – his newly defined flanks, thighs, abdominals and pectorals still as new to him as when he had begun training for this role and suddenly, blood creeping up from his chest into his cheeks, he realises – he looks _good_.

Blood surges downward and Joe watches with fascination as his cock lengthens, thickens, lifts: appreciating its true glory for the first time since he was a teenager.

He wets his lips, watching himself as he lowers a tentative hand to run a careful fingertip down his own length, shivering at how oddly intense it feels before a sudden bolt of adrenaline strikes at him through his nerve endings.

Languid movements gone, he scrabbles for his phone, room tilting as he drops to his knees to rummage in his discarded jeans, lurching back to his feet triumphantly, fist clenched on it in triumph before collapsing onto the edge of the bed, already panting, already leaking, eyes jerking back and forth from where his reflection sprawls, legs wide at the end of the bed, to his phone, pressing quick keys to access _Video_.

His hips jitter upwards, thrusting at nothing as he turns the phone, arm extended out to angle it _just so_ , the mirror showing the camera’s subject – aroused male nude, 29, and Joe hisses between his teeth as he takes in his own body at this angle, his cock pointing up toward a heaving chest and tight, dark nipples – his skin slick with shower water and sweat, cock beating hard against his belly as he slowly brings his free hand into shot.

He licks his lips, wishing oddly, narcissistically, that he could get them in shot, too, watches himself bite his lower lip as he gently circles his gleaming cockhead, index and middle finger just barely stroking the underside, his thumb pressing in firmer as he allows himself to move and more, to _think_.

He thinks about lips and skin and knowing glances and gruff words and charming smiles and muscles and low laughter and stubble and _fuck will all this panting be in the video? God he hopes so, god he hopes so and the wet, smacking sounds of his fingers slipping on his dick and DON’T SAY HIS NAME_ –

Thick, slick ribbons of come explode out of him and he hears himself swearing (LOUDLY) and doesn’t know what other words are said, because his come is striking his chin and dripping down his chest and his hips are still jittering fitfully and _fuck_ , now his face is in shot because he’s fallen backward, phone up by his face as he pants and licks his sweat (oh god, was that come?) off his lips, pleasure numbed fingers clicking clumsily as they switch from ‘ _Stop_ ’ to ‘ _Send_ ’.

Then it’s gone and Joe drags himself beneath his sheets, managing to fumble it to Play, falling asleep to the sight of his fingers, long and articulate, pulling almost reverently (desperately, gently, FRANTICALLY) on his cock and somewhere beyond the haze of sleep and alcohol he knows he may have just ruined everything, but it’ll just have to wait ‘til morning.

Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Strong Language and Sexual References.  
> Disclaimer: Joseph Gordon Levitt & Tom Hardy are AMAZING actors and doubtlessly awesome people, my brain just needed to make free with their fictional doppelgangers for a mo - PLEASE don't sue me, I promise its NOT worth your time.  
> Dedication: For Cheryl, who apparently can make me write stuff I've really sworn not to ;P


End file.
